Secret Fangirl
by FictionalRainbows
Summary: In which Tyler tries to find out Troye's two secrets


Chapter 1

Troye Mellet was the class freak. Tall and skinny with brown curly hair that flopped over his face, almost completely obscuring his eyes. He had no friends: in class he sat alone, at break he sat alone, at lunch he sat alone and at the end of the day he walked home alone. No one knew anything about him, and that was how he liked it. He didn't want anyone to know his secrets, of which he had two.

Tyler Oakley was exactly the opposite, with his purple hair and eccentric personality. He was constantly worshipped by all of the school. He was _that_ kid that everyone wanted to be, in _that_ circle of friends that everyone wanted to be in. They were the correctly dubbed 'populars': Tyler himself, Dan, Phil, PJ, Chris, Louise, Carrie and Felix.

On this particular day, Troye was walking, alone as usual, down one of the schools long corridors to period five on a Friday afternoon, music, the lesson most kids hated but Troye loved. He didn't let this show, of course, just in case someone decided that that would be a good way to get inside his head and destroy him . The hallway around buzzed with noise and activity - lockers slamming, people laughing, shouting, and several couples kissing. One of which was Dan and Phil, _the_ Dan and Phil, the most shipped couple in the school. They broke apart to stare at him with curious eyes just like all the others as he walked part. No one seemed to realise that he had emotions too, that he wasn't just a toy for them to push around and stare at. Just because he hadn't had any friends for the entire seven years he'd been there, or hardly ever spoke and never laughed he was instantly judged. It wasn't like he wanted friends anyway - he was better without - but their effort would have been appreciated. He walked quickly down the corridor with his gaze trained carefully on his feet, not looking up until he reached his beloved music room. It was packed with students and since the teacher apparently hadn't arrived yet, they were all yelling and laughing and screaming and eating. Not much fun for a claustrophobic person: Troye's spirits dropped considerably. Nevertheless, he refused to let them take away the one part of the day he looked forward to. Sitting down in the only quiet corner, jammed between the whiteboard and a row of desks on a small beanbag, he took out his precious notepad and began to write.

The teacher didn't arrive for another five minutes at least, so Troye managed to get another verse of the song done. It still didn't have a name. By the time the Miss Jackson managed to get the class split into groups and listen, twenty minutes had passed. And as usual, Troye didn't have a group. This terms group assignment was to produce a song with various instruments and a singer. Troye wanted desperately to put himself forward as a singer, but he didn't have the confidence. People might recognise his voice. Plus, it'd mean talking to people. Being social. And Troye sure as fuck did _not_ do social.

"Everyone got a group? No? Alright, Elise, go with Megan and Connor. Troye…you go with Tyler, Chris, Louise and Carrie," Every piece of happiness slipped out of Troye's grasp as the four names he did not ever want to hear associated in a group with himself were said. He gaped at the teacher for a moment and considered asking if she was sure there was absolutely nowhere else he could go, but thought better of it. There was no use making a fuss. Tyler and the rest didn't dislike him exactly, but they weren't opposed to making fun of him now and again. As he moved over to them he saw them exchange a look of annoyance. He didn't blame them: if it had been him in their places, he would've been pretty pissed himself. When the teacher said to begin, Tyler and Louise began animatedly talking about a new clothing range that had been launched a few days ago. Actually, Louise wasn't talking so much as listening patiently to Tyler babble on and on about this _adorable_ lilac sweater that would look _perfect_ with his hair, especially since he'd be dying it a _gorgeous_ baby blue in a week or so. Troye had to give Louise credit for listening to it all; Troye would have been bored out of his mind. But this wasn't getting them anywhere with their assignment.

"Um, this isn't really getting us anywhere…" Troye trailed off as everyone stared at him. His cheeks when red and he looked away.

"So, he talks," Carrie said, breaking the silence. The tone of her voice was curious, with a hint of teasing. She giggled. "Your voice is so low!" Troye went even redder. He already felt like crying, or hitting Carrie - probably the latter. He was so used to only leaving the house for groceries, he'd all but forgotten how to have a normal conversation.

"Aw, Carrie, don't be mean to him. He's right, we need to at least have a song chosen and parts allocated by the end of today," Chris agreed, before shouting, "Dibs on guitar!"

"I want drums!" Tyler and Chris scrambled off to grab said instruments before the rest of the class did, as if anyone wouldn't hand them over immediately if they were asked. Troye was seriously debating whether to say he would sing. If he did, people would know his secret and maybe recognise him from YouTube. He had seen a few familiar faces when he scrolled through the comments. On the other hand, despite the support and compliments the internet gave him, maybe he was really, really bad and everyone would laugh. No, it was definitely better to stick going relatively unnoticed like he usually did. That had saved him from being hurt so far, hadn't it?

"Me and Louise can sing, right Lou?" Carrie asked. That settles it. Troye was not singing. Louise nodded enthusiastically.

"We could get matching outfits! Like the showbiz people in the west end with the sparkles and top hats! It'd have so much…pizzazz!" Troye cringed at the choice of words, but secretly though that it would be quite funny, and good for a class performance.

"Pizzaz, Lou, really? I'm not doing anything that's involving 'pizzazz'."

"But Carrie, it'd be funny!" Louise whined as Carrie glared. She rolled her eyes and smiled back after a few seconds of Louise's pitiful look.

"Alright, fine. It's not like it'd ruin our reputation or anything. Hell, it might even start a new trend," A few moments after Louise's excited squealing subsided, Tyler came back with an impressive array of drums and Chris with a fancily carved wooden guitar, not dissimilar to the one Troye had at home. There was a pause, before the four of them launched into a conversation, or an argument, over which song they chose. Chris wanted to do a heavy metal rock song. Louise and Carrie wanted to sing a new pop song Troye had never heard of and Tyler wanted to do a cheesy Disney song. Already, thirty minutes had been wasted over these stupid little things.

Plucking up all of his courage (not very much, admittedly), Troye asked cautiously, "Couldn't we just do an acoustic version of the Disney thing?" Four heads turned to face him. Then Tyler laughed.

"None of us can even read music, let alone convert an entire song," he giggled, then sighed. "Let's just go with the bloody pop song already," Carrie and Louise high-fived, grinning.

"I can do it," Troye said quietly. He wasn't sure if anyone had heard him at all, but Chris turned around to look disbelievingly at Troye with an eyebrow raised.

"You, the most quiet and definitely the weirdest, no offence, boy in the school ca-," Miss Jackson cut Chris off before he could finish his blunt question, shouting gleefully that class was over. The students were just as happy, scrambling over each other to get to the door like caged animals. Which, in many of their opinions, during school hours they were. Troye, however, lingered behind. Whenever he could, he used the schools music rooms to record for his YouTube channel. During lunch and break they were filled with enthusiastic musicians, practising their various instruments and gloating over their grades. Troye never bothered with gradings: he thought they were a waste of time. Once, last year, Troye did come to record at a lunchtime, but by the time he found an empty room his confidence vanished as he remembered that the walls were not soundproof. He got some odd looks as he hurried out as quickly as he came in.

But now, after school on a Friday afternoon, was perfect. He walked slowly down the corridor of practice rooms, checking carefully that each and every one was empty. After his test proved positive, Troye selected a room at random and finally allowed himself to relax a little, even letting a small smile find his lips. When he first stared singing, he had used his laptop to record himself, but quickly realised that he was going to need something else; the laptops sound quality was _awful._ So, after a year and a half of saving, he had a pretty decent pair of headphones, a small microphone and a hard drive that was specifically designed for storing music and sound. With one last look outside, he sat down at the keyboard and started to sing.

Troye loved singing. Like, he really, _really,_ loved it. A lot of people will say that, but he firmly believed he was the only person on the planet that loved it to such an extent. Because, music was Troye's best and only friend. Since he was very little, Troye had been lonely. The other kids at nursery weren't interested at the shy boy who sat in the corner all day and tapped rhythmically on pots and pans. No one in primary school wanted to be friends with the boy who always got his homework done and never spoke. By the time he was at high school, it was clear he stood no chance at ever making a friends. But that was okay, because Troye had music. It didn't matter if no one else would ever know about his talent, because Troye knew, and so did his songs. Although now, quite a large number people on the internet knew, too. That was okay as well, because he would probably never meet any of them anyway.

The though of the internet brought Troye out of his singing-induced haze and back to the present. He should probably go: he had promised a new song uploaded tonight, and god knows if his internet connection would work today. Sighing, he packed away his gear and stepped out into the corridor. He turned the corner into the main music block, then stopped. Leaning against the wall, was Tyler Oakley. A Tyler Oakley who looked like he was trying very hard to listen through the wall to something. This may or may not have been Troye's singing, but Troye immediately assumed the worst. Crap, this was bad. The most popular boy in the entire fucking school knew his secret. He had expected Tyler to start laughing, or stare, or call someone to spread the news. But instead, he turned and smiled at Troye.

"Afternoon," he said pleasantly, nodding his head. "Did you hear that singing?" Troye's heart skipped a beat. He doubted that Tyler suspected him (who would suspect Troye?), so maybe, if he played this right, the danger would just pass over him.

"Oh, um, I - I was just playing a video of a YouTuber I like. S - sorry, did I have it too loud?" Troye stuttered. Talking to populars was _scary,_ but he though he did okay. He sighed with relief as Tyler nodded, accepting his quickly thought up excuse.

"No, not at all," Tyler smiled, little dimples forming by the corners of his lips. "I like him too. A lot, actually. You saved me from a really boring detention. Thanks," Troye had no idea what to say next. He racked his brain, trying to think of a normal conversation he'd overheard somewhere and remember what on Earth he was supposed to say next. He gave up quickly, nodding awkwardly and speed walking out of the room, but not before hearing Tyler mutter something under his breath.

"Could of sworn Troye's voice sounds familiar,"

 **A/N, first do not in any way, shape or form expect me to update regularly. I am CRAP at updating XD but the more you review and like the sooner I will...probably. So this will be Troyler eventually and it might at some point contain smut, idk. I'm not sure how good I am at writing it but yeeaahh I like reading it so I'll try. ((That was an understatement: I fucking love reading it)) Alright bye muffins see you when I remember to write more**

 **~M**


End file.
